Shel Silverstein

(September 25, 1930 – May 10, 1999 / Chicago/ Illinois)

Shel Silverstein Poems

201. Woulda-Coulda-Shoulda 4/7/2010
202. Dreadful 4/7/2010
203. Ickle Me, Pickle Me, Tickle Me Too 4/7/2010
204. Somebody Has To 4/7/2010
205. Peanut-Butter Sandwich 4/7/2010
206. Sick 4/7/2010
207. No Difference 4/7/2010
208. Sarah Cynthia Slyvia Stout Would Not Take The Garbage Out 4/7/2010
209. If The World Was Crazy 4/7/2010
210. Bear In There 4/6/2010
211. Batty 4/6/2010
212. Ations 4/6/2010
213. Colors 4/6/2010
214. Enter This Deserted House 1/1/2004
215. Boa Constrictor 4/6/2010
216. Snowball 4/7/2010
217. 25 Minutes To Go 4/6/2010
218. Smart 4/7/2010
219. Crowded Tub 1/1/2004
220. A Light In The Attic 4/6/2010
221. A Boy Named Sue 4/6/2010
222. The Giving Tree 4/7/2010
223. Hug O'War 1/1/2004
224. Where The Sidewalk Ends 4/7/2010

Comments about Shel Silverstein

  • Brendan (2/6/2018 11:06:00 AM)

    Thank you for creating your awesome books they warm my heart

    11 person liked.
    4 person did not like.
  • Anijah johnson (1/31/2018 10:31:00 AM)

    youare so awesome mr.silverstien i just read your poet Hug O' War it is so goodd! ! omg i have to read more

  • Anijah johnson (1/31/2018 10:28:00 AM)

    he is really funny i love his poetry and imagination i wish i couldve meet him before he died he inspired me to write millions of poetry books thank you for being such a great man mr. silverstien i love you and your poetry.! ! !

  • Jessica shen (1/30/2018 12:07:00 AM)

    i like your poems shel silverstein

  • isabella jin (1/29/2018 11:58:00 PM)

    I really like shel silverstein

  • Karen (1/29/2018 11:20:00 AM)

    Why is there a coyote on the bus

  • mahesh (1/28/2018 12:41:00 AM)

    Tinny village all of them stori

  • Lil pump (1/25/2018 3:13:00 PM)

    Gucci gang Gucci gang Gucci gang

  • Not dabber (1/25/2018 3:13:00 PM)

    Plz stop dabbin tray

  • Yoooooooooooooo (1/25/2018 3:13:00 PM)

    I do not believe any one

Best Poem of Shel Silverstein

Where The Sidewalk Ends

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
and before the street begins,
and there the grass grows soft and white,
and there the sun burns crimson bright,
and there the moon-bird rests from his flight
to cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
and the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
we shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow
and watch where the chalk-white arrows go
to the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and ...

Read the full of Where The Sidewalk Ends

A Boy Named Sue

Well, my daddy left home when I was three,
and he didn't leave much to Ma and me,
just this old guitar and a bottle of booze.
Now I don't blame him because he run and hid,
but the meanest thing that he ever did was
before he left he went and named me Sue.

Well, he must have thought it was quite a joke,
and it got lots of laughs from a lot of folks,

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